


Auld Lang Syne

by kesomon



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 20:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: “Do you have family?” Yaz asks, and Graham can see it in the Doctor’s face. An echo of the grief that vices his own heart. But her voice is steady as she answers, fondness for days gone by.“I keep them with me,” she says, the sunset reflected in her eyes like a mirror of memories.But the thing about time travel is, those who have left us are never really gone.The road to Sheffield lends the Doctor the opportunity to revisit old friends. Four people they meet along the way, and a few at the end of it all.(Discontinued/Adoptable - Read Notes)
Relationships: Grace O'Brien/Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Jack Harkness
Comments: 14
Kudos: 136





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a semi-ambitious 5-things ficlet where the Doctor meets people she considers to be her family while trying to get the Fam back to Sheffield. Unfortunately, I only ever wrote the one for Jack, and then lost all braincells.
> 
> Chapters would've included:  
\- Brother: Jack  
\- Sister: Donna  
\- Wife: River  
\- Daughter: Bill  
\- Family: Jenny and Susan, as per the canon in Otterchild's series on FFN.
> 
> I may get inspiration to finish this story someday but for right now it is discontinued and adoptable if anyone wants to run with it. Posting this chapter, though, is my gift to you because I didn't want it to languish forever.

“Do you have family?” Yaz asks, and Graham can see it in the Doctor’s face. An echo of the grief that vices his own heart. But her voice is steady as she answers, fondness for days gone by.

“I keep them with me,” she says, the sunset reflected in her eyes like a mirror of memories.

But the thing about _time travel_ is, those who have left us are never really _gone._

Ooo---oOo---ooO

Sheffield attempt number 5. They’re on a planet in a solar system about 50,000 light-years from anything familiar, which boasts a blue-dwarf star, three moons in the sky, a reputable tinker’s market, and according to the Doctor, a very open mind about alien tourists. It means they’re allowed out to roam without supervision, as the Doctor, with a frown on her face she can’t quite conceal, states she’ll be staying behind to do some maintenance on the TARDIS, citing a rougher-than-usual landing and a bit of vortex indigestion.

Feeling a bit run down himself, Graham volunteers to stay with her. If it means he can put his feet up for a bit, he’ll gladly pass her tools and make a bit of lunch for when the younger ones finish their exploring.

The TARDIS landed on the outskirts of the city, unobtrusive and unnoticed, which is why Graham is understandably startled when there comes a knock on the outer door.

_Rap-tap ta-tap-tap, _ ** _thud thud._ **

The TARDIS makes a sort of sheepish, gurgling noise.

The Doctor pauses, mid-tinker, her head buried in the underfloor near the console, and then pops her head up to stare at the door with an expression Graham can’t quite pinpoint. Anticipation, maybe, resignation. A bit of bemusement, perhaps.

“Is that what you were on about?” She asks, directing a gaze towards the ceiling. “You could’ve said.” She sighs, and ostriches herself back under the floor. “Could you let him in, Graham? If I let go of these bolts before they’re locked in...”

She trails off, distracted by her task, and Graham hopes the end of that sentence was going to end somewhat benignly.

He does as he’s told, and opens the door to find a man on their doorstep. Taller than Graham, with a full head of dark hair just starting to grey at the temples and a face that belongs on old-fashioned movie posters. He’s dressed in the local fashion, shirtsleeves rolled up and hands in his pockets, and there’s a leather bracer on his left wrist.

He’s also human. Considering the local population are a bipedal sort-of-mongoose over 7 feet tall, it makes this man extremely out of place.

When he sees Graham, he smiles, all teeth and charm. “Hel-_lo_ there.”

“Hello,” Graham returns warily. “Can I help you?”

“I bet you certainly could,” the man practically purrs. The accent is flat and strange, like something out of an American movie, and the words are Earth English, Graham realises, hearing no echo in his ears he’s come to know as the TARDIS’ translation functions at work. The stranger chuckles when Graham leans back in alarm. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite - unless asked. Sadly, I’m here for business, not pleasure. Is the Doctor in?”

“Hah!” the Doctor’s voice rings out, triumphant, and there’s a clatter of boots before she appears at Graham’s side, slinging an arm around his shoulders to steer him protectively away from the man at the door. “Sorry, Graham, forgot to warn you; he _flirts.”_ She gives the stranger a warning look, offset by a wry smile. “Sometimes to terrible excess, but he’s harmless, really.”

The man’s grin becomes more genuine, clearly surprised but pleased to see the Time Lord. “Doctor! Love the new face.”

“_Captain Jack_; going a bit silver yourself, very distinguished,” she returns, and releases Graham to accept a hug from the man; he takes the opportunity to lift her off her feet and swing her, to which she exclaims, “Jack! Put me down!”

“I think I like you tiny!” He declares with a grin, but obeys the order. Thus righted, the Doctor laughs and claps him on the arm.

“Oh it is _good_ to see you, Jack. Graham,” she turns, “I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine. _Is_ it still Jack, these days,” she asks of the man, “or have you changed things up?”

“Going by Jackson Boe, at the moment, but you can call me _Captain_ anytime,” the so-named Jack says, with a practiced leer, and the Doctor rolls her eyes.

It seems like an old rivalry, to Graham, and there is genuine delight on Jack’s face as he holds out a hand to Graham. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Graham. The Doctor doesn’t often let me meet her new friends.”

“Uh, likewise.” Graham shakes the hand, a bit nonplussed when Jack turns it from a shake into a gallant kiss on the back of his knuckles. It’s surprising enough to make Graham laugh and mutter, “oh, Grace would’ve _loved_ you.”

Jack looks cheerfully bemused for a moment, before addressing the Doctor again. “I was in town and noticed a couple of very displaced Earthlings wandering about. They yours?”

“Ryan and Yaz, yep,” the Doctor says, warm and proud, before the smile falls to concern. “They haven’t gotten in trouble, have they?”

“Nah,” Jack reassures. “But it’s about six centuries too soon for humanity to be wandering about on Calerdon and so I got curious. Figured you wouldn’t be too far off, and I just had to see my oldest sweetheart, for old time’s sake.”

Graham figures he means the Doctor.

The Doctor sighs and gestures Jack inside. The wide-eyed, dare say it _covetous_ look of wonder on the man’s face as he takes in the console room’s construction is almost uncomfortable to witness.

“Oh, you _redecorated,_” he breathes, reaching out to stroke a hand over the nearest crystalline strut, and the fox-grin returns. “I _like_ it.”

The lights overhead pulse and brighten, the TARDIS making a funny sort of noise that almost sounds self-satisfied.

“Oi, quit seducing my TARDIS,” scolds the Doctor.

“Shan’t, can’t help that she’s sweet on me. Ain’t you, Sexy?” He gave the crystals another pat and a kiss, of all things. The TARDIS gives what Graham can only describe as a giggle, like the twang of a guitar string plucked, and the crystals take on a purplish hue.

Graham gives up on ever getting a handle on the day’s surprises, coughs uncomfortably, and offers up, “So, you used to travel with the Doc, then?”

“Oh, a _long_ time ago, yeah. He gets to call you _Doc?_” Jack says, turning wounded eyes on the Doctor. “How come you won’t let me do that? I’m hurt, I thought we had something special.”

“Because I like kids better than I like you,” the Doctor teases.

“Hang about,” Graham interrupts in offense, “_Kids?_ I’m older than any of you lot.”

The pair of them turn to look at him as one, the amusement on their faces clear. That’s definitely the look on Grace’s face, right there, the look she got when Graham had done something endearingly stupid.

He’s feeling like he’s just done that _something-stupid_ here and now. “Well....aren’t I?”

“No,” they tell him, in stereo, and the Doctor adds, “Jack here is what the Time Lords would call a Fact, see, and Facts are very slow to change. When I met him he was, what, 55?”

“Eighty,” Jack offers, “if you count time spent trapped in a bubble paradox. Very good anti-aging technology in the 51st century.”

The Doctor nods, and asks, “Of course, that was a while ago; how old are you now, Jack?”

“Ten thousand, give or take a century.” The man tucks his thumbs in his pockets, casual as anything. “And still looking good.” He throws a wink in Graham’s direction.

The, apparently, _younger_ man blinks, flounders. “Well, you don’t look it at all, mate,” he finally manages, as PC as he can get. “And you, Doc? How old are you? Because now I feel like the answer ain’t gonna be anywhere near 35.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, Graham.” She’s got a smirk on, enjoying the moment as she thinks about it. “I’ve lost track once or twice, but I think it’s either upwards of three thousand, or four billion and - y’know what, let’s just stick to three thousand,” she hastily corrects, at Graham’s gobsmacked stare. “Nice round, simple number.”

“Four _billion_?” Jack repeats, unwilling to let that go, while Graham is still trying to wrap his head around _four_ digits worth of age, never mind _ten_. “What’d you _do_ since I last saw you? You were only twelve-hundred and six then.”

The Doctor’s nose crinkles. “A few centuries of siege in a town called Christmas, then got trapped in a time loop for a…long while, _long_ story. By the way, if you ever meet someone calling himself Rassilon wandering about the continuum, feel free to punch him in the nose. What are you doing on Calerdon, by the way?” From the rapid patter of her words, it’s clear she aims to change the subject. “I thought you were well-established for domestics on Janus for the next century at least.”

“Still the plan,” Jack admits, slinging an arm over her shoulders. Graham boggles at the way the Doctor just accepts it, though the look on her face was guarded as the Captain continues, “I may have gotten myself into a _tiny_ snag recently....could do with a bit of assistance if I’m honest. You know how it goes.“

“Ye-es, that’s the problem, innit,” the Doctor says, dry as dust. “What kind of _tiny snag_ is it this time?”

“Oh,” he says, trying and failing for virginal innocence, “just a little thing with an elephant...and a guard, and a priest, and maybe a bit of smuggled New-New Mexican tequila-”

“_Jack.”_

The disapproval in her tone makes Jack grin enticingly. “Aw, come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Oh no,” the Doctor disclaims, shrugging his arm off her shoulders and putting the console between them. “No-no-no, and for good measure _no - _I am not here to get involved in whatever crazy plan you’ve concocted. Not after last time. I never got the stains out of that jacket and _you-_” she points a finger at him sternly, -”wound up seducing my wife into politics, crime, and your bed.” She pauses. “I think. Not necessarily in that order.”

“Was that the time with the three cats and the nun’s wimple, or the incident with the horse and the idol of Ifrana?” Jack wonders.

“Neither, it was the Duke of New Essex and the sentient weedwacker.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack reminisces with a smile, and then blinks. “Hey, _she_ seduced _me!_ Those Nova-Roman togas and the hat-stand were all her idea!”

“Should we come back, then?” A voice interjects from the door, where Yaz and Ryan stand, canvas bags in hand and the spicy scent of apples and curry in the air. Graham’s mouth waters instantly and he groans.

“I forgot to make lunch.”

“We figured as much and bought extra. Just don’t ask why it’s blue,” Ryan jokes, lifting one of the bags for show. “There was this nice mousey fellow in the market, let us have it on a tab.”

“Whose name did you use?” the Doctor asks, frowning.

Ryan looks suddenly shifty. “...Newt Scamander. Er, it was Yaz’s idea!”

Yaz gapes at him. “Get off, it was _not_.”

Jack hoots, amused, and claps his hands together. “Don’t worry about it, I know the guy. I’ll pick it up for you - if the Doc helps me out. Please?” he turns to her, hands in a begging position. “Five minutes and I’m outta your hair, luxurious as it is now.”

The Doctor looks between her friends and the immortal, torn, until she sighs.

“_Fine._ Lunch first, then -” she flaps a hand vaguely, “- whatever it is you’re up to. But if you get my friends thrown in jail, _Captain_, I’m marooning you on an asteroid.”

Ooo---oOo---ooO

The jails on Calderon are really quite comfortable, as far as jails go.

Ooo---oOo---ooO

They’re back on the TARDIS, just having left Jack on Janus (not an asteroid, for all the Doctor’s threats before), and curiosity gets the better of Yaz.

“So...Jack is...interesting.”

“_Interesting_ is certainly one of the more polite ways to put it,” the Doctor agrees, shirtsleeves to her elbows, busy at the controls in what will be their sixth attempt to reach Sheffield.

“He’s your brother then, yeah?”

The Doctor stops what she is doing and turns her head to look at Yaz, eyebrows high. “_Jack?_”

“Well he kinda acted like a brother. At least, he acted a lot like my cousin’s brother when I visit her. Minus the petty thievery. And the bootlegging.” Yaz looks almost pained. Has done, ever since the probationary peacekeeper learned just what illegalities Jack’s ‘small favour’ would entail. “I hope. _God_, I hope.”

The Doctor looks to be restraining herself from laughing as she shakes her head. It’s incongruous with the sad smile that she allows to slip into place.

“Jack and I aren’t related. Not even the same species. I did have a brother...once. Terribly stuffy, we never got along.”

A moment of silence, awkward and heavy between them all.

“But, if I had to pick a brother,” the Time Lord then exclaims, buoying her mood up with the thought, “it would be Jack. He’s a good man, a good friend. And a terrible flirt. Did I apologise for that?” She looks to Graham, earnest as anything. “He wasn’t too overwhelming, was he? Because I can turn this TARDIS right around and change my mind about that asteroid.”

“He’s fine,” Graham promises hastily. “No marooning required. It was more amusing than anything. Grace would be teasing me for days.” He tailed off, melancholy stealing some of the self-conscious blush from his cheeks.

The Doctor offered him a sympathetic look. It’s all too easy to fluster under her gaze, and Graham clears his throat, shoving hands in his coat pockets. “Weren’t we heading off?”

“Right then,” she proclaims, and spins off to lay hands on the console controls, excitable grin back in place. “Sheffield, here we come!”


End file.
